


poetic noise

by thangam



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Fluff, Idk what to say, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Married Couple, Married Life, Sleeping Together, and i tried to be eloquent oop, and it's sappy and sweet, it's on a prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:42:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25154143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thangam/pseuds/thangam
Summary: He'd write poetry for Steve.(Or, Tony can't sleep and relives their relationship in hindsight)
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 4
Kudos: 51





	poetic noise

**Author's Note:**

> based on [this](https://write-it-motherfuckers.tumblr.com/post/615695991661871104/person-a-whats-your-most-precious-memory&sa=D&ust=1594250071207000&usg=AFQjCNHiw-pyguVQRNlYKRSp6_yzvqlvHA) prompt!

Tony couldn’t sleep. 

Now, this wasn’t exactly a surprise, but, as Steve had laid him down (carried him over the threshold, the dumbass; he was gonna throw his back out!), Tony had figured that the insomnia gods would be merciful enough to a newlywed that he got some  _ fucking sleep  _ for once in his miserable life. But nope, he’s awake, it’s a godawful hour of the night, and he has the impulsive desire to wake Steve up, even though it’ll surely bug him. Tony wiggles exhaustedly-he was tired and wide awake in the same breath as he tried to make up his mind. 

But Steve shouldn’t be surprised. Tony doesn’t think he’s slept through the night  _ once  _ in his miserable life, though it’s been  _ greatly  _ reduced in miserable-ness by the giant labrador of a man sleeping next to him. 

“Hey, Steve?” Tony tries against his husband-his husband, oh my God that’s his new favorite phrase-’s chest, prodding at his side. “You ‘wake?”

Steve groans, fingers flexing over Tony’s bare back, making him twitch at the ticklish feeling. “Am now,” he muttered. “Wha’it?”

“...What’s your most precious memory?” 

“‘Got married las’ night, and y’re askin’ now?” Steve rolls over, his blond hair splaying across the pillow. Tony burrowed close. “Honestly?”

“Mhm.”

“That time when we sat in that shitty little car park late at night, eating those disgusting chips from the petrol station with the broken sign.”

Tony sat up, looking down at Steve’s form under the moonlight. “...Seriously? Why?”

“Because that was the first time I ever saw you smile for real.” 

Tony stares. He remembered that night-but only vaguely. It was a few weeks after their first date, and Tony didn’t even remember why they were there. The only thing that he could recall was the taste of plastic-y, terrible chips with too much salt and laughing so hard his ribs had ached for hours. “What?” 

Steve smiles up at him, but Tony can only see the corner of it, where the light peaks from the blinds. "You didn't ever smile with anyone for real. I always thought you had to be the saddest person on campus because you looked miserable even when there was a grin from ear-to-ear and I thought what person looks so sad to be smiling. You were the prettiest person I’d ever saw-ever seen," Steve corrects, reaching up to cup Tony's cheek. Tony turns his face into Steve's palm, brushing a kiss to it absently. "And I remember leaving our first date  _ upset  _ because you had smiled all night but you looked so so wary. I punched a wall, later that night, when Rhodey called."

"Rhodey called?" Tony settled back down on the bed, reaching over and tangling his fingers with Steve's, mirth melting his muscles. "I didn't know that." 

"I suppose that was the point, Tony," Steve laughs, then squeezes his hand. Tony squeezes back to the rhythm of ‘i love you’. "He called, thanking me for just leaving you at your door. And that I shouldn't be discouraged if you looked frightened the whole date."

"You were the first date I went on after Ty," Tony says. He had been scared the whole date, looking at his drink the entire time. He hadn't even gotten up to use the bathroom the entire night, too scared that Steve would slip something in his drink when he wasn't looking and, well, do the same thing Ty did. "I remember. I cried like, ten times, when I was getting dressed.”

Steve makes a mournful noise, not unlike a sad puppy. 

Tony laughs, shoving until he's tucked under Steve's arm. "Don't be sad. You-you helped me get help. You-" he shakes his head. "You saved me."

"No," Steve says, and Tony's surprised at how vehement he sounds, making a confused noise. "You saved yourself. I just nagged you into getting help." Steve's grin is crooked. 

"But, back to the story, what'd you do after the phone call?" Tony asks. He's never actually heard this story. "Rhodey called, and-?" 

"I punched a wall," Steve says, and Tony's both irritated and amused to find that Steve sounds fond of the memory. "I was so so angry why someone had-hurt you that way. I begged for names and addresses. Bucky had to calm me down, and I think I cried like you had broken up with me, even though it was the start of something very very precious to me, not the end." Steve traces a finger over his sid.. Hands built like they could hurt, but they cradle him so gently, Tony thinks with a sigh reminiscent of a frilly, ridiculously romantic novel.. 

"Rhodey told you every-?" Tony can’t help the hurt in his tone and the blatant breach of privacy.

"No, sweetheart, he loves you too much to tell me without your permission. But he told me enough that I knew it wasn’t my fault, and it wasn’t your fault, and I took it as a challenge to make you smile for real. Hence, parking lot memories." Steve rushes to say, and Tony's face breaks back into a smile, the grin stretching skin and making his jaw wince. 

Tony has to say that it’s the best kind of pain-pain brought from laughing so hard with the people you love that your body protests? It’s a poetic noise; if he had any skill with a pen, Tony would be digging for a notebook. Tony thinks the literature department at every school has given up on him, and Tony doesn't have very much of a desire to start and get him a frivolous notebook with dots and stickers on it. But-he'd write poetry for Steve, Tony thinks with finality. 

He'd write poetry for Steve. 

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on tumblr [@thxngam](https://thxngam.tumblr.com/)! please please please send me prompts and you can follow for some content that I might not put on here! there's a likable/rebloggable version [here!](https://thxngam.tumblr.com/post/623113140059750400/poetic-noise)


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